


The Darlington Substitution Scandal

by Cerdic519



Series: Further Adventures Of Mr. Sherlock Holmes [23]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Attempted Murder, F/M, Freckles, Inheritance, London, M/M, Slow Burn, Substitution, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes, Yorkshire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 22:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15059189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: A freckle appears in the wrong place, and Lady Darlington worries that something is wrong with her son. She is more right that she could know – for that freckle means the difference between life and death!





	The Darlington Substitution Scandal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Centaurlips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Centaurlips/gifts).



_Introduction by Sir Sherrinford Holmes, Baronet_

Although generally an optimist in life, I was more of a realist when it came to my brother Sherlock. Hence I made a wager with Kean that my brother would make some disparaging remark about the new Mrs. Holmes not long after meeting her, each of us choosing a date and time when we thought it would happen (both dates quite soon as it happened). Sure enough my brother went and told Watson that his new wife was 'something of a china-doll' just two days after they were first introduced, for which he had to apologize soon after. I was annoyed about losing, but on the upside Kean got to do that thing with his tongue that.... yes. Oh Lord yes!

Memo to self; I can afford some more comfortable chairs. The padding on our current ones is quite inadequate.

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

_Narration by Doctor John Hamish Watson, M.D._

It was good to be back in England, especially now I was a happily married man. Constance and I had settled into a small town house in Notting Hill which was not that far from my surgery. And from my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes in Baker Street.

I was if truth be told a little surprised to find him still living alone in Mrs. Hudson's rooms. I had fully expected him to find someone else, not so much to share the cost – I knew that he was more than able to support himself alone – but merely for the company as he had seemed to enjoy the times we solved cases together. But no. Indeed, it seemed as if little had changed in our friendship, although there was one rocky moment early on when he referred to my good lady wife as 'a china doll'. I had married Constance as much as for her brains as her looks, and I know Holmes must have felt he had gone too far in that because he actually came and apologized to me.

Three weeks after my return he came round to see me. He was expecting a potential client on the morrow and believed that the case might entail a short stay in Yorkshire, an area I have always been partial to. I agreed to call on him early the next day before said client was due.

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

The card brought up that morning was that of Lady Darlington, a name I knew well from the social pages. Her husband Lord Darlington, also Mr. Jolyon Egontes-Payne, was at this time one of the rising stars of the government and confidently expected to be appointed a minister in the next reshuffle. As I have mentioned before, the lines of party loyalty were more blurred back in those days and the lord was much admired by both his own party and the opposition. Lady Darlington herself I knew to be thirty-seven years of age, famously beautiful and the daughter and heiress of the late industrialist Lewis Bessemer. The family owned a main property in the Yorkshire Dales called Hartrigg Hall as well as a hunting-lodge in the North of Scotland, property in the Durham town that they took their title from and a large house in Berkeley Square. They had but one child, a son called Stephen from Lady Darlington's first marriage, who was eleven years old.

Lady Darlington was indeed beautiful, but one look at her frail features told me that this was a lady in distress. Mrs. Hudson bustled away to bring tea and cakes and Holmes gently led our visitor to the fireplace chair before taking the seat opposite her. Surprisingly, her first words were addressed to me.

“I know that you keep records of your friend’s many successes, doctor”, she said in a melodious tone, “but if he does decide to take my case, I doubt that you will want to document it. I am not even sure if Mr. Sherlock Holmes can help me.”

_(Lady Darlington had most likely become aware of Holmes' talents through the offices of the _”Times”_ newspaper, as it had recently praised him for solving a problem facing the British government. Fortunately it had not gone into detail, which was just as well as it had involved two government ministers doing something quite improper with a household implement. And each other!)._

“Perhaps you might explain exactly what help you require, my lady”, my friend said gently. She hesitated.

“I have read of your achievements”, she said, “and have noted how you managed to succeed with what is sometimes very little to work with. But more, I suspect, than in what I have to ask of you. Mr. Holmes, something is wrong with my son.”

We both looked at her expectantly, but it seemed that that was it.

“Surely Doctor Watson would be more suited to your needs?” Holmes ventured.

“I did not mean medically”, she said, twisting her hands nervously. “I mean….. it is very hard to explain.”

Holmes sat back and put his barley-sugar pipe into his mouth. 

“You are a lady of breeding and sense, Lady Darlington”, he said quietly. “You would not venture out into this city's horrible traffic and variable weather merely on a ‘hunch’. When did you first notice that something was amiss?”

She took a deep breath.

“Last December Jolyon suggested that it would be good for Stephen to work on his estate in Yorkshire”, she said. “He was ahead with his school work so I said yes. But when he came back a couple of weeks ago he was so much more withdrawn. He is not exactly rude as such but he used to be considerate of others, even the servants, and that has ceased. He dresses untidily and takes little care of his appearance. He has even started taking his meals in his own room; Jolyon is not happy but he has asked me to allow it for now. I am certain that something happened in Yorkshire, and it makes me uneasy.”

Holmes frowned.

“Does your husband make frequent business trips north?” he asked. She seemed surprised at the question but nodded.

“For about a week every month”, she said. “He stayed with Stephen for three weeks when he started on our estates up there, although I asked him to spend longer around the time so that he could be sure our son was settling in. But Jolyon always regrets going, and sends me little tokens to show that he is thinking of me if he has to stay longer than his five days. Yet I am sure that he knows something about what happened up there.”

Holmes pressed his fingers together as he thought.

“This is most curious”, he said at last. “First, has your husband always spent a fair amount of his time on his estates in the North?”

“Not until two years ago”, she said. “But I happen to know the reason for that. You may remember that there was a minor stock market crash at that time, and Jolyon moved his investments out of London and to the North before it happened. The family has always held some lands in Darlington although our country seat is just across the border in Yorkshire, but he expanded our interests there by purchasing a number of adjoining small farms in the Dales, he said to create larger and more economical units. That is another reason why he needs to be there for so long of late; these farms are all very remote.”

“Tell me about your own family”, Holmes asked. She looked surprised at the question, but answered readily enough.

“My father was first cousin to the famous Henry Bessemer”, she said, “and a major investor at a time when his discoveries were still considered unreliable. Dear Uncle Henry – I always called him that – he never forgot that help, and those investments were returned manifold. Guided by him my father invested wisely, and was almost as rich when he passed although nothing like as renowned. My dear mother raised me and managed all my investments for me.”

“I met my first husband, Mr. William Allerton, thirteen years ago; it was the proverbial whirlwind romance. He was a local businessman ten years my senior, but there was something very obvious between us. We married barely a month after we had first met, and I had Stephen ten months later. Sadly he died in a mining disaster not long after that; he had been inspecting the place and had become trapped underground. I met Jolyon at a ball in York five years past, and we were married a year to the day afterwards. Having Stephen adopted as his heir was, I made clear, a condition of the marriage.”

“Has your husband changed at all of late?” Holmes asked. Lady Darlington seemed to have to think about that.

“He has been working harder than usual”, she admitted, “but he has not changed towards me. Indeed, if anything he is even more attentive than usual.”

“How so?” Holmes asked.

“I had a slight illness last month and he cancelled his trip north to stay with me”, she said. “Just a winter chill and I told him he should go anyway, but he insisted.”

Holmes nodded. There was a long silence.

“There is something that you have not told me, Lady Darlington”, he said at last.

“Sir....”

“You are keeping something back”, he said firmly. “Something important.”

She blushed fiercely.

“What is it?” Holmes insisted.

For a moment I thought she would refuse to say, but suddenly she spoke.

“It is such a silly thing”, she said looking even more embarrassed, “and there is probably a rational explanation for it. It is just.... the way things have been of late....”

She hesitated for some little time before continuing.

“Stephen has a small number of freckles, which I have always found endearing even though he does not like them much. Most are on his chest, but he has one slightly larger one on his left cheek. The other day I caught him looking at himself in the mirror, and it was only later when I was brushing my hair before bed that I realized why I had felt something had been wrong. A mirror reflects things, which meant that the freckle had to have been on his right cheek. I thought that I must have imagined it; dear Jolyon had to try hard not to laugh at me when I told him. Sure enough it was on his left cheek after all.”

Holmes looked worried by that, although I had no idea as to why.

“Does your husband know that you have come here today?” he asked.

“No”, she said. “I do not like keeping secrets from him but I had a feeling that he would not approve. And it is not exactly something that I would wish to go to the police about. They would just laugh at me, I am sure.”

“Does anybody else know?”

“No. I told the servants that I was going shopping. I have a personal maid, but I allowed her to visit her mother on the Isle of Dogs for a few days. She is a good girl, but she does gossip.”

“Then you must be sure to return with some purchases”, Holmes said. “Lady Darlington, I must be frank with you. I see several possibilities with this case and none of them are good. Danger may be approaching, possibly even death, and it is vitally important that the person behind that threat does not even begin to suspect my involvement. If we are careful, we may be able to catch them.”

Her eyes widened in terror.

“Sir, you are frightening me!”

“Forewarned is forearmed”, Holmes said. “Tell me, are there any special dates in your son’s life?”

“Yes”, she said. “there is his twelfth birthday next month. There is a clause in the Darlington family estate which prevents any child under that age from being acknowledged as an heir, I presume because of the high infant mortality rate in olden times.”

“On what day?” Holmes pressed.

“The nineteenth, just over three weeks from now.”

“I have a feeling that that date is important”, Holmes said. “Does your husband travel north before that date?”

“He usually always goes around the second week of each month”, she said, “but next month he plans to travel up on the sixteenth and return late on the twentieth. I think he said that there is some sort of formal event that he is obliged to attend, although he hates such things. Stephen will have his birthday marked on the day after his return. Do you believe that either of them are in danger?”

“It is a possibility that we must consider”, Holmes said firmly. “I am sorry that there is so little comfort I can offer, Lady Darlington, but just as Watson here must tell patients the way things are whether good or ill, so must I tell my clients. I think it best bearing in mind the circumstances that you do not attempt communication with us before your son’s birthday, unless there is some change in your husband’s schedule. If we have anything to tell you, we shall of course contact you.”

“How will you do that?” she asked. Holmes’ eyes twinkled.

“A detective cannot reveal _all_ his secrets, my lady”, he said. “I hear the maid coming with our tea. We shall eat, drink, and if not be merry then at least not worry for a while, then you shall do your shopping and return to Berkeley Square.”

Once our guest had left Holmes said that he had some inquiries to make into this matter that would take the rest of the week, but asked if I might be able to accompany him to Yorkshire for a few days from Monday. Fortunately I was only covering at the surgery prior to restarting there full-time the following month, so I was able to say yes.

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

I was surprised when, upon leaving Baker Street at an early hour the following Monday morning, we crossed the Marylebone Road and continued south rather than turning west for King’s Cross Station. 

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Berkeley Square”, he answered. “I wish to make sure that our target takes his train.”

“We are following Lord Darlington?” I asked excitedly. A chase!

“We have some inquiries to make in the White Rose County”, Holmes said. “I fully expect that, despite the supposed backwardness of country areas, word will soon reach His Lordship of those inquiries. I very much doubt that he will be pleased.”

“You think that he is a target?” 

“He will likely go to the station”, Holmes said, and I noted that he had avoided answering my question. “I am less worried about him and rather more about keeping his dear lady wife in this world rather than allowing someone to push her into the next.”

“You really fear that her life is in danger?” I asked. 

“I am certain of it”, he said.

“And her son?”

“The boy in Berkeley Square is perfectly safe.”

Our conversation was curtailed by our cab’s arrival in the square, where we found a cab already waiting outside Darlington House. After about five minutes Lord Darlington emerged with his wife, whom he kissed farewell before getting into the cab and leaving. Lady Darlington seemed to wave to someone out of my sight on the other corner of the square before returning to the house.

“I arranged that she should do that as a signal”, “Holmes explained. “All is well; her husband is headed to King’s Cross as planned. Had it been otherwise, she would have walked over to post a letter in the pillar-box opposite.”

“How did you communicate with her without her husband knowing?” I asked. He smiled.

“One of the capital's top pickpockets owed me a favour”, he said. “The 'gentleman' in question said that he quite enjoyed the challenge of getting something into a lady's purse rather than out of it!”

He called up the destination to our cabbie, and we rumbled off in distant pursuit. Once at the station we followed Lord Darlington onto the platform, and eventually secured the compartment next but one to his. Holmes explained that we would have to keep checking out of the window at each station in case our quarry alighted early for some reason, but he fully expected him to travel some way into Yorkshire. Sure enough, we reached Doncaster and the change from Great Northern to North Eastern Railway tracks with him still on board, and he remained there through Selby, York and Thirsk before he finally left the train at Northallerton. Holmes put a restraining had on me once we were safely on the platform.

“He will stay at the Station Hotel for the first two nights, as is his habit”, he said. “We must endeavour to find somewhere salubrious enough for two wandering souls on a week’s walking holiday in the Dales.”

We were fortunate enough to find a fair-sized inn in the town which let rooms this early in the season, though unfortunate to be caught in a swift downpour _en route_ from the station. Holmes’ hair looked even more of a mess than usual and I was heartily glad when the landlord said that two hot baths could be made available. We squelched into our room and divested ourselves of our clothes; Holmes seemed to be having particular trouble with his left cuff button and growled in annoyance at it. I chuckled.

“Come here”, I said, having got myself into my dressing-gown. I managed to extract his button from the thread it had caught on, and the sleeve hung loose. But as I went to take my hand back, he suddenly grasped my wrist and stared into my eyes.

“Thank you”, he said quietly. 

That look was too intense. I blushed fiercely.

“It was only a button”, I said, almost defensively.

“Not just for that”, he smiled. “For everything. For being you. For being my friend. Thank you.”

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

The next morning Holmes went off up the dale to do whatever he had planned to do, and I went to the Station Hotel to see what Lord Darlington was up to. I had feared that there were just too many opportunities for me to either lose him or, worse, be seen following him, but it turned out that my fears were groundless.

“He ordered a cab to take him to a place called Stainsrigg after breakfast, and luckily he did so at the reception desk when I was sat in the nook next to it”, I told Holmes later. “I talked with the receptionist; she told me it was about six miles away and that he often went there, so I went on ahead to the place. It is only a hamlet, not more than ten houses all clustered around a single dead-end off the main valley road. Very scenic, though. When he arrived he went straight into a house; it was Rose Cottage owned by a Mr. Thomas Drake. I was glad that I had brought my book because he did not emerge all day. I had lunch at the inn, and was close enough when he left to hear him order the cabbie to take him back to the hotel. I thought that I would have to walk over a mile to Hardale, where the nearest station is, but I was lucky enough it run into a party of tourists and they let me ride all the way back to town in their carriage.”

Holmes nodded at my tale.

“You did well”, he said and I tried not to preen (I failed). “If he goes back to the village tomorrow, which I fully expect, make sure you have your lunch at the same inn.”

“Will that not run the risk of alerting him?” I asked.

“As things now stand, I would quite like for Lord Darlington to be alerted”, Holmes smiled. “I think that the way things stand, it is the key to the whole problem.”

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

On Tuesday Lord Darlington did not return to the village but went to the station and took a train to the town from which he took his name. It turned out that he was attending the civic function his wife had mentioned, marking the opening of a new park, and like most such events it dragged on well into the afternoon. He called in at a lawyer's office after the event then returned to the station where I briefly lost sight of him. Fortunately I saw him boarding the train and we travelled back to Northallerton. Holmes would not reveal to me the results of his own labours as yet, but he seemed quietly pleased. 

The following day was the eighteenth, and Lord Darlington again went out to Stainsrigg. I followed Holmes’s instructions and extracted from one of the locals at the Pig & Whistle that the nobleman visited this place regularly, and that Mr. Drake was an old retainer from Darlington Hall who had retired some years back to a house paid for by his late employer. It struck me as odd that the nobleman would go to such an expense, but the man told me that Mr. Drake had been in employment with both Lord Darlington’s father and grandfather, so maybe there was a strong sense of obligation there.

Unfortunately the nearest post office was, like the station, back in Hardale so I decided to walk there after lunch in order to communicate my findings to Holmes who had said that he would be back at the inn by then. I had anticipated a quiet end to my day out, but on my way back to Stainsrigg I heard the sound of approaching hooves and only narrowly managed to get myself off to the safety of a convenient copse before Lord Darlington was driven by, heading back towards Northallerton at a fair speed. I watched him go, wondering if his haste was because he had heard of my inquiries, and decided to return to Hardale to inform Holmes, only to find on my arrival that the post office was about to send a boy looking for me with a telegram from the great detective. He instructed me to remain in Stainsrigg and said that he would be joining me there very soon. Puzzled, I did as I was asked.

Some little time later Holmes arrived on horseback with a second horse (presumably for me) on a leading rein. It was long dark, almost nine o'clock, and he looked even more windblown than usual. Refusing all questions he asked that I show him the house that Lord Darlington had been visiting, then surprised me by marching up the path and thumping loudly at the door. It was eventually opened by the house owner, and some tense words were exchanged. Both men then went into the house but only a few minutes later Holmes returned with someone else, a small boy by the size of him. 

“We must return with all speed to Northallerton”, Holmes said firmly. “I am sorry doctor, but explanations must wait until later. Dark things may still happen if we do not act fast.”

“At least tell me who that is?” I asked, as I hoisted myself up onto my mount. I nearly fell off the other side at my friend’s response.

“Master Stephen Darlington.”

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

We returned not to the inn but the railway station. I was surprised, as surely the last train of the day must have gone by now.

“I chartered a special”, Holmes said. “We may be safe here, but I would rather not risk it. The train has a sleeper coach so we can get some rest.”

“After you have explained everything”, I said, as Holmes hustled his young charge onto the platform. He took the boy into the sleeper coach and presumably saw him to bed, returning only when the train was under way.

“This has been a dark case, doctor”, he said, looking tired from all his exertions. I too was exhausted, but wanted to know all before I could sleep. “Fortunately the Gods have been with us and I can safely say that we have prevented a double murder.”

“A double murder?” I gasped. He nodded.

“Lady Darlington and her son.”

I stared at him in shock.

“Around two years ago Lord Darlington was made aware that he had a son of his own blood through an affair that he had had shortly before his marriage to Lady Darlington”, Holmes began. “The lady, who was local to the Northallerton area, died not long after informing him of his first-born son.”

“How do you know this?” I asked.

“I searched the official records of the churches in Wensleydale, and at Askrigg I found a lady whose age and death matched what I was looking for”, he explained. “Her name was Adelaide Drake, and yes, she was the daughter of Mr. Thomas Drake.”

“Lord Darlington has a reputation in politics of being something of a gambler”, Holmes went on, “and he comes up with a bold idea. He persuades his adopted son to join him on a trip North last December. Once there, Master Stephen Darlington is kidnapped and kept partially sedated, whilst Lord Darlington's natural son Master William Drake takes his place. Lord Darlington then has some little time to train him up before they return south. The boy is entering that difficult time known as puberty, so it is hoped that Lady Darlington will ascribe his changes in character to that, plus of course he is fortunate to have inherited some of the physical characteristics of his father.”

I sat in stunned silence.

“They only have less than a month to hold out before the rival Master Stephen Darlington raeches his twelfth birthday, and the substituted boy can inherit in his name. I vert much doubt his half-brother would have survived for long after that date. You will also remember that Lady Darlington had her brief illness recently. That was her husband preparing to strike and remove her as well. He has returned to London by the last train; we may or may not beat him to the capital but I wired ahead to Lady Darlington before coming to meet you, and she has left for a hotel as I arranged. Her husband will find only his replacement son when he reaches Berkeley Square, and a note telling him that the game is up.”

“Incredible!” I exclaimed.

“Master William Drake's only mistake was that freckle”, Holmes said. “He applied a copy using theatrical make-up, but he forgot that in applying something in a mirror the image is always reversed. Though he thought that the freckle was on the left cheek, it was in fact on his right. Lady Darlington mentioned it to her husband who immediately corrected his son; they hoped that she would just think she had been mistaken.”

I sat back, still trying to piece it all together.

“The government?” I asked. Holmes shook his head.

“I suspect that by the time we reach London, Lord Darlington and his substitute son will have fled the country”, he said. “Perhaps it is better that way. The embarrassment for Lady Darlington would otherwise be terrible, rather than just awful.”

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩

Holmes was, as usual, right in his assessment. The following day the newspapers were filled with the sensational disappearance of Lord Darlington, with all sorts of speculations as to the cause. He had managed to secure some of his investments before fleeing, but there was more than enough for Lady Darlington to take her son – the fully recovered Master Stephen Darlington, mercifully none the worse for his months-long ordeal – and retire to a quiet country life which, she later wrote in her thank-you letter to us both, she had always yearned for. Her son grew to be a fine man, and now has a large family of his own as well as the administration of one of our African colonies. He wrote a most gracious thank-you letter to us both after his adventure, which was one of the rare times that I ever saw Mr. Sherlock Holmes blush.

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩


End file.
